


flowers (we're growing)

by babochu



Series: ocean eyes [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Baby Peter Parker, But He Fixes It Like A Good Dad, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony messes up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 17:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babochu/pseuds/babochu
Summary: "What do you mean you haven’t held Peter yet?” Pepper has that look on her face. Her lips are pressed tightly together, eyes squinting and berating; looking for some kind of reasoning.  “We’ve been here six days, it’s time for him to go home- and you haven’t held him yet?”Or the one where Tony struggles to come to terms that his hands don't destroy everything he touches, and along the way he learns a little more as well.





	flowers (we're growing)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> I'm very grateful for the response on the first part of this fic and all of your very kind words, kudos and other wise. To everyone who read it and enjoyed it please know I am very grateful. 
> 
> I wanted to explain something about this series before starting. 
> 
> In this series I kind of wanted to stay true to who I think MCU Tony is. A person who always has the best interest in heart but doesn't make all the best decisions to get there. So yes, in my series Tony will not always be the father that will take the perfect course of action but his heart will be the right place. 
> 
> With that being said please enjoy! And thank you again for all your kind words! Also Happy New Year!

Tony figures that with a baby comes the irrevocable weight of parenthood. That wisdom would implore, coat, and paint; dance like a soft spring around him. Engulf him in the security he needs. Or more so the security he entrusts himself with.

 

He lasts for four days.

 

Four days of floating on an effervescent glow; a high that wafts through his mind and makes him feel as if he’s untouchable. Like everything that had ever gone wrong in his life can be twisted and broken down. Buried into the dirt with a force so strong it would only have the option to revive itself anew and beautiful.

 

He guesses to himself that he should be proud of those four days.

 

However, Peter is weak.

 

Not so weak to where after four days of tubes and incubators he can’t go home. However weak enough that Tony knows if he ever held Peter in his own arms he’d break like the china plates his mother had so often praised.

 

His mother would praise Peter too.

 

He wonders though, maybe it isn’t Peter who is the weak one.

 

Peter, who is drowned in a dazzling light so bright sometimes Tony can barely look at him. Barely grasp at the moments where all he sees are hazel eyes of wonder that stare so openly, yet so omniscient, like he can see Tony’s wavering will.

 

On the fifth day, when he slips it’s only an afterthought. He barely recognizes the action.

 

Twisting the cap of scotch and taking a shot, letting it slip passed his tongue and frowning at the aftertaste.

 

He slips and falls into the comfort of something so dark. But only for a moment. Just for a moment he thinks; what if? What if he took another sip, poured a another glass - drunk another bottle.

 

In all of his life, before that moment, he had never been so quick to pour his liquor down the drain.

 

It starts with the scotch, and then the vodka, rum, tequila, gin- all of it.

 

He’s never felt so horrified in his life, after the realization seeps in. There isn’t an escape- a way out now. Something cold to hold onto him at night.

 

But he’s also never felt so light.

 

For the first time in years he’s never felt that light.

 

-

 

“What do you mean you haven’t held Peter yet?” Pepper has that look on her face. Her lips are pressed tightly together, eyes squinting and berating; looking for some kind of reasoning. Some kind of indecision that she always seems to find well. “We’ve been here six days, it’s time for him to go home- and you haven’t held him yet?”

 

Tony frowns, shifting between his feet as the nurse - Gertrude, how _outdated_ , fumbles around the room to make sure everything is set in place, perfect for their departure and the newest baby's arrival.

 

Tony is sure she’s only now just waiting for them to leave but Tony has had the most inconvenient problem form around him. If the emotion of embarrassment hadn’t left him years ago he’s sure he’d feel it now, but all there is a strong flare of defense.

 

“I haven’t _needed_ to hold him.” He assures Pepper as she swaddles Peter in her hands. He’s asleep, head crooned as well it can be on her shoulder. Eyelashes fluttered shut and cheeks dusted in pink. With the teal pacifier that proves to be way too big in his mouth. It’s all a perfect mixture of adorable.

 

Tony can’t help but frown even more.

 

Pepper is well within her rights to be exasperated- Tony is sure to remind himself to generously upgrade her salary after all of- _this_.  “Tony, please. You’re a father now. You’re going to need to hold him sometime.”

 

She steps forward, as if to enforce that sometime is _now_. Just at her one step he can feel the way his stomach clenches in protest and he takes a step away from her. She only looks at him with confusion for a moment before trying again and he quickly takes any measures there is by occupy his hands with his own work stuff. His Stark Pad and Laptop, with an assortment of papers- copies, granted to him from the hospitals.

 

“Hands full,” He says wistfully, and he quickly strides away from her.

 

In some sick form of conviction it feels right.

 

Something that holds onto his heart and squeezes so painfully that it flutters and beats- like it’s the thing that’s keeps him living. Like every squeeze is the source of another heart beat and he should be grateful for it, but all the same it hurts.

 

-

 

Tony hires a nanny, Melissa, the same day.

 

-

 

It’s been nine days, he hasn’t touched Peter once.

 

Some part of his mind feels so heavily convinced. Peter was so weak days ago, Peter stuck in an incubator, breathing up and down so gradually so - helpless.

 

Peter looks at him like Tony can save him.

 

But who would be the one to save Peter from Tony?

 

-

 

On day twelve Pepper gets Rhodey involved.

 

Tony stuffs himself away in the comfort of his lab to tinker. Melissa under strict orders to only contact him in case of an emergency. Since Peter has come home Tony keeps creating things, keeps tinkering.

 

First tinkering with Peter’s crib, creating a whole new AI program for the safety features in his room. And then adding onto the safety features and creating a protocol for each of those features.

 

Everything feels endless- like the sea; the only way to find out how deep it is to keep going. And Tony keeps going.

 

It’s two in the morning when Rhodey comes down, in his military wear.

 

Tony doesn’t bother to look up- doesn’t care to.

 

“You plan on telling Peter when he grows up you never bothered to hold him or something?”

 

Straight to the point it is.

 

Tony gives him a look just to indulge him for a moment before ordering DUM-E to hand him the screw driver. He doesn’t answer Rhodes, doesn’t know how to explain it. How to say what exactly the crippling fear inside him is, especially when he himself doesn’t understand it well enough.

 

It’s just silence of Rhodey staring at him with judging eyes, something lingering beyond them and Tony pointedly ignoring him.

 

When Rhodey finally sighs in defeat he doesn’t leave without saying more. “You took this on Tony, right now he won’t remember anything but trust me, first he’ll turn one, then five, then ten, then he’ll be old enough to remember every moment.” Then he turns to leave.

 

Leaving Tony with the blaring music and the growing guilt.

 

-

 

Tony remembers Howard holding him.

 

Something dark in that memory makes him feel all the more right.

 

-

 

Every night, three in the morning, Tony sits besides Peter’s crib.

 

The moon shines so prettily into Peter’s room and it brings back the memory of Tony struggling comically to paint the room, finding every color he chose to be way too patronizing in one way or another. He’d given up at a solemn blue color, but with the way the moon strikes itself on the wall, it’s stunning. As if Tony himself is out there in the expanse of the universe.

 

Yet each time, there’s a feeling that squeezes his chest.

 

So he sits, and watches Peter, listens to him breathing.

 

For a moment he reaches out. Peter’s curls have grown, from the splotches of blonde now to a garden of light brown.

 

There’s a solidarity to touching Peter, despite him being here, it makes it so much more real. And perhaps Tony had made up his mind in that room days ago, yet he vaguely thinks so sporadically that perhaps that was _wrong_. That he’d corrupt Peter the moment he even touched him.

 

That Tony wouldn’t be able to escape Howard’s influence and in turn it would fall onto Peter.

 

Which is why he could never hold Peter. Looking at him, he knows already that the moment he’d hold him, he’d never be able to let him go.

 

So he pulls away and just watches.

 

Watches as the moon falls over them and consumes them. The hue of blue trapping Tony, condemning him in more ways than one.

 

-

 

Melissa’s sister is sick. She requests the night off to take care of her.

 

Tony in all his hesitance let’s her go.

 

“You’ll do fine.” She says with a warm smile as she picks up her bags. She takes a step to leave but turns around hesitant before speaking again. “You may have doubts, and may be scared, but- but when you have love it should overshadow everything.”

 

She gives him another smile before heading out.

 

-

 

Tony feels so faraway in his own mind, he barely realizes when he gets to Peter’s room.

 

Peter’s face is tear-stained. His lungs yelling out as he cries.

 

Something breaks inside of Tony, the warm bottle of milk in his hands feels forgotten as he walks up to the crib. And everytime he looks down at Peter he’s reminded of how small he is. How weak he looks- like if Tony just touched him once-

 

He doesn’t let the thought finish as Peter cries again, gasping loudly, and kicking as rough as he can. His little hands shaking.

 

In all truth, it isn’t as dramatic as he mind made it out to be. He hesitates only for a moment before he simply picks Peter up and slips him into the crook of his arm. As if he’s on auto-pilot. Placing the bottle before him, Peter takes it greedily.

 

It isn’t until Peter finishes that he realizes he’s actually holding him. His stomach churning, as if there are actual butterflies flying around obnoxiously in there.

 

It’s for moments that he just stares. Into Peter’s sharp eyes that look up at him as well as if they’re both seeing each other for the first time. As if they both meeting and realizing each other’s presence for the first time.

 

And before Tony knows it, he’s crying. Crying tears of regret and fear and happiness all the same. It feels surreal and scary how much love is placed into his heart.

 

Despite the expanse of the universe that tries to swallows him in the room, he doesn’t think it could ever triumph over his love for Peter.

 

Because all along it wasn’t Peter who was the weak one.

 

_“Sir,”_ Jarvis’ even voice interrupts.

 

Tony sniffles. “What’s up, J?”

 

“ _May I remind you sir Peter needs to be burped.”_

 

Tony smiles. “Thanks, J.”

 

_“Of course, Sir. Always.”_


End file.
